


Needing the Curve

by Bookworm1121



Series: Teen Wolf Fanfics [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: APUSH, All Human, F/M, Fluff, Humor, I have trouble writing malia, I hope they aren't out of character, Malia has test anxiety, No Werewolves, of course he says no, only because its malia, she wanted him to test bad on purpose, stiles is a smarty pants, this is literally the longest fic I have ever written omg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 21:48:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15325077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookworm1121/pseuds/Bookworm1121
Summary: Malia needed her A.P. United States History tests to be curved. Her teacher offered them, but only if the class average is under seventy-five. Thanks to Stiles Stilinski, the class average is never under seventy-five.





	Needing the Curve

Malia wanted to hate Stiles Stilinski, but she knew she couldn’t. They were in the same Advanced Placement United States History (APUSH) class. Why Malia sighed up for the class, she had no idea. Maybe she felt pressured by her friends to have at least one A.P. class before she graduated. So, of course, she had to sign up for one of the hardest A.P. classes—seriously multiple blogs have rated it in the top five hardest. 

Malia couldn’t drop the class either. She didn’t realize how hard the class would be until the drop date passed, and she couldn’t afford a failed grade on her report card. But the problem wasn’t the class itself, the problem was Mr. Stiles Stilinski.

Their teacher, Mr. Johnson, promised the class that if the class average was under a seventy-five percent, then he would give the test a ten-point curve. There were only fifteen people in the class, and Malia heard how hard Mr. Johnson’s tests were. She assumed, there would always be a curve. She was wrong.

Stiles Stilinski messed it up. He always scored in the high nineties on the tests, making him the outlier. This caused the average to become above seventy-five percent every time. If the curve was placed, then Malia would score an average grade on every test. However, because there was no curve, Malia was barely passing the class.

And she tried studying. She studied every night for twenty minutes, but she never could understand the tests. Mr. Johnson tried helping her with them. She went in for tutoring once a week and whenever there was a test. She knew he felt bad. Teachers don’t want to fail their students, and Malia was no exception.

So, she wanted to blame Stiles for her grade in the class. Because if he tested a few percentages lower, they would have a curve. Well, until Mr. Johnson offered extra credit to bring up their grades, and for him to offer meant he had to believe in it. Which wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

However, she couldn’t blame him, as much as she convinced herself. She couldn’t hate him, as much as she wanted. She had another problem: she was pretty sure she was in love with him.

. . .

Malia sat in class, tapping her pencil against her desk. Mr. Johnson was reviewing for the unit test the, tomorrow, and she was anxious about the outcome. She knew she would get in the sixties because she always tested there. However, her grade was slowing dropping past the sixties, and she needed a test to bring it up. She looked over at Stiles, who was writing everything Mr. Johnson said. Malia didn’t see the point, given he taught all of this within the past week. Malia had written it down twice because her notebook got ruined and needed to rewrite the notes. 

“Malia, pay attention please,” Mr. Johnson said, “We are now going over questions that will be on the test.”

Malia nodded, ready to write the answers. She always got those questions correct, and she thought Mr. Johnson only started going over a few test questions for her benefit. She didn’t know she was his favorite student in the class—she assumed it was Stiles. However, Mr. Johnson liked Malia as a student because she kept trying and never gave up—even when she could have. Mr. Johnson would never admit to this since teachers weren’t supposed to have favorites.

Mr. Johnson continued with the review, and Malia continued writing the questions and answers down. Once he stopped, Malia looked over at Stiles again. She sighed, wishing he would test lower one time. She knew it was wrong to wish that, but she needed the curve.

Malia missed the bell ringing, and she missed Stiles walking to his desk. He tapped on her shoulder, causing her to jump, “What?” she asked.

“Why were you staring at me today?”

Malia’s eyes widened, realizing how obvious she was. Stiles probably thought she had a crush on him—which she didn’t (but totally did). 

“I was wishing you’d score lower this time.”

“What? Why would you wish that?” Stiles asked. Great, he sounded offended.

“Because, I always score low, and getting the extra ten points would bring my test grade up to an average level.”

“Why don’t you study better?”

Malia rolled her eyes, shoving her textbook and notebook in her bag. She stood up, making her way out the door, “I do. Every damn night, but I test badly.”

Stiles followed her, “Then why would you take this class?”

Malia shrugged, “Felt dumb around my friends.”

“Well you are testing low, so maybe you’re right.”

Malia turned to him, glaring at him, “How dare you. I am not dumb, you asshole! Not everyone remembers everything Mr. Johnson says. Even after studying for hours a night.”

Stiles nodded, “Okay, I’m sorry. That was out of line, but so was wishing I’d score lower.”

“More than half the class have the same wish, smartass.”

“Could I help you study tonight? See if it helps?”

“Why are you offering?”

“I feel bad that I called you dumb, plus I don’t want you to fail.”

“I don’t fail.”

“Barely pass.”

Malia bit her lip, sighing, “Fine. Whatever, help me study.”

“Your place or mine?”

“Yours. I’ll text you the address.”

Malia nodded, “Fine, I will see you there.”

Malia turned around and walked to her next class. She stopped halfway, though, realizing Stiles never asked for her number. Then, she got a text message from Stiles of his address, meaning he already had her phone number.

. . .

When Malia pulled into his driveway, he was already sitting on the porch. He stood up and walked down the steps to greet her. 

“My dad had to go to work. He got called on duty last minute.”

Malia nodded and got her stuff out of the passenger seat. She strung her bag over her shoulder and waited for Stiles to lead the way.

“Do you want pizza or something? I don’t know how long you are going to be here,” Stiles said. 

“We can get there when we get there.”

Stiles nodded, “My stuff is in the dining room. Normally, I study in my room but that doesn’t seem like an appropriate setting.”

Malia laughed, “Mind in the gutter?”

“No—I just thought—”

“I’m joking, Stiles. But let’s start.”

Stiles nodded, leading the way, “Okay.”

After three hours, Malia and Stiles both decided they needed a break. Malia was eating apples with peanut butter, and Stiles was eating grapes. 

“You know the stuff,” Stiles said, “Why don’t you test well?”

“I don’t know,” Malia said, “I think I freak myself out.”

“How come?”

Malia shrugged, “I second guess every answer. I know I should go with my gut, most of the time my gut is right, but I start to overthink it.”

Stiles nodded, “Well, I know Mr. Johnson says to review your answers, but it seems like doing that shoots you in the foot. So only go over them to make sure you didn’t skip one.”

“Maybe, I’ll see.”

“I think you can do it.”

Malia smiled, fiddling with the apple slice, “Why are you being nice?”

“Because you seem cool. In class, you always have something to say about the lessons. You are like Ms. Questions sometimes. I think Mr. Johnson likes that you ask questions.”

Malia lowered her eyes down. She didn’t get embarrassed often, she prided herself in it. However, after hearing the statement from Stiles made her feel complimented, “I have another question.”

“Go ahead, what is it?”

“How did you already have my number?”

Stiles’ eyes widened, “I thought you wouldn’t realize that. But Scott gave me it. I knew you knew him, so if I ever needed anything from class I wanted to ask you.”

“Why didn’t you ask me for it?”

“Because you’re intimidating.”

“In the good or bad way?”

“Good way.”

Malia smiled, “Good, should we continue or stop?”

 

. . .

Two days later, Malia got her test back. She grinned when she saw the seventy-nine as the grade, and she had no added points. As soon as class ended, Malia rushed over to Stiles to show her grade.

“Stiles! I took your advice and didn’t review the questions. Look! A seventy-nine! That’s fifteen more points than usage!”

Stiles grinned, “Awesome! See, you just need to believe in yourself.”

Malia nodded, “It’s going to bring my grade up too!”

“I’m proud of you, really.”

Malia’s excitement got the best of her, and she acted on her impulses. She, quickly, leaned in and kissed Stiles. Stiles’ eyes widened and Malia quickly pulled away. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry. I tend to get overly excited about things and act on the impulses.”

“And the impulse was to kiss me?”

“Maybe.”

“Would you do it again, if I wanted you to?”

Malia looked at him, surprised, “Only if you wanted me to.”

Stiles smiled, “Yes, I would want you to.”

Excitement filled Malia’s body again because Stiles Stilinski wanted to kiss her. She grinned, and Stiles smiled back at her.

However, the moment was broken when Mr. Johnson cleared his throat, “Stiles, Malia, please, do not do this in my classroom.”

Malia and Stiles both blushed, and Stiles put his stuff in his bag.

“Sorry, Mr. Johnson,” Malia said, turning to him.

“It’s not a big deal. Good job Malia on the test.”

Malia smiled, and she grabbed Stiles’ hand once he was finished packing his bag, “We’ll get out of your way, Mr. Johnson. Have a good weekend!”

Malia pulled Stiles out of the classroom, and he, clumsily, followed her.

“Where are we going?”

Malia opened the supplies closet. Scott and Malia both used it to sneak off with whoever during the school days. Most of the time, Scott was inside, pressed against the door, as he kissed his boyfriend, Isaac. 

“Isn’t this the place Scott when he is with Isaac?”

“Yes, we share this closet,” Malia said closing the door. 

“I’ve never made out in a supplies closet before.”

“Glad to be your first,” Malia grinned.

Stiles chuckled, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. Malia followed his actions by wrapping her arms around his neck. They were close, their lips barely touching.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” Stiles told her, “I’ve had a crush on you for most the year. Scott’s been trying to encourage me to make a move.”

“He’s been doing the same for me.”

“That little shit knew we both liked each other.”

“He must have gotten sick of us both talk about each other to him.”

“Well, he’s going to get sick of seeing us together a lot more.”

Malia laughed, “Sounds like a plan. Now less talk and more kissing.”

Stiles laughed, and he kissed Malia. Malia’s heart soared as they kissed. They only time they pulled apart was when Scott opened the door, causing Malia to tumble on the floor, and Stiles falling on top of her.

**Author's Note:**

> I love writing at 2 am until 4 am :,)


End file.
